The Second Day of Poetry
[?]
Submitted by Poets Who Blog
At Feast End
We congregate about the table,,,
Our bellies bursting with holiday—it was pristinely set.
The turkey carcass now
discarded,,,
the sweet potatoes observed
disrobed
(their brown candied toppings stripped to expose solitary
daubs of orange-carroty-color not fit to keep),,,
the blotched plates cleared,,,
the caked forks confiscated,,,
sweaty goblets still bathed in mostly melted cubes:
the table
tidied.
Was God’s grace gone so soon?
God’s grace
was gone
so soon
